Arthur's Mansion
by Nyahnyan
Summary: Alfred buys a mansion in a small England town. Everyone tells him that it's haunted by some crazy dude, but Alfred doesn't believe in such things.
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back with another fic! Just something silly I came up with after coming home from seeing 'The Woman In Black' a week or so ago. So, instead of working on my other fics like I should be, I decided to write this. But I'll get to work on the others here shortly. **

**I'm not sure if it's going to turn out to be out serious like or funny... But, eh, whatever. It may turn out to be both.**

**I do not own Hetalia. ;A; If I did, UsUk would be canon.**

**Edit 01/04/2014:** Here marks the beginning of any edits done to this story. Some edits may be obvious, others not so much. I can say that there is a possibility for some slight plot changes. As always, I hope you enjoy. And I still don't own Hetalia, as stated above.

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><p>Arthur Kirkland's home a mansion, so big it was very easy to get lost in, even for him though he was born and raised there. Endless hallway upon endless hallway connecting together, seeming to go on and on forever. Doors lead you in a circle to right back to where you started. Stairs brought you to floors of more mazes and puzzles for you to solve. If one did not pay close attention to where they were going, you would swear up and down that you did, indeed, pass that exact painting only moments ago.<p>

Arthur loved his home. He loved all of the old memories he had from his childhood. Running down those hallways with his brothers, hiding behind doors and jumping out from behind said doors in attempt to scare his siblings. He loved all the new things that, even after living there all of his life, he was still discovering about the place. Of course, getting lost was rather bothersome for him at times, but it didn't happen too often. Though it was like an adventure when it did happen, and Arthur was very fond of adventures.

Some would think that living in such a big place would mean that a lot of other people lived with you. This was not the case at all for Arthur. Arthur lived in the mansion by himself. His family having either left him to live elsewhere or having passed away years ago. Though this didn't bother Arthur too much. He rather liked being alone. He enjoyed the quietness. In fact, Arthur very rarely ever left the place. Only traveling to the small town nearby for food and necessities when the need to do so arose. Because of this, the people of the town had created many rumors and myths about Arthur and that house. Many feared him, and many avoided him like the plague. They all thought he was bloody crazy, a loon, a nutjob.

And that's exactly what he was.

Arthur was crazy. Off his rocker. Insane. However you choose to word it. He talked to the empty air around him, claiming that the ghosts and fairies were his friends. He'd talk about how he and the fairies would run and play about the house and in the gardens. How he and the ghosts would have riveting conversations about the many different art pieces that adorned the place and some would share stories from the past. And every day at noon, they'd all get together and have a lovely tea party in the garden, weather permitting of course.

But that wasn't the only thing that labeled the lad as crazy. He was also a very harsh, sadistic, somewhat twisted man. He loved playing silly little mind games with the people he met, going as far as torturing some of the ones that got on his nerves. Or so the stories go. So, very few people dared to ever visit him at his estate, knowing well it'd be best for their health to stay away. But every once in a while there was always some cocky teenager who would show up, hoping to 'prove' himself to his friends by surviving the visit or something along those lines. Arthur, knowing very well the kid's intentions for visiting, always made a game of it, getting as much fun and entertainment as he could from it. It never ended well for the teen to say the least. No, Arthur never physically harmed them-at least not on purpose, as much as he'd like to, but at least left the kids mentally scarred for life. Needless to say, Arthur had the police called on him numerous times, but never had they succeed in arresting him. Most times the cops would go in but never come back out. Some believe that they still wander about the hallways of the mansion. Others believe that it is quite possible that Arthur killed them and possibly made them that evenings dinner.

As the years passed the people began seeing Arthur less and less until his visits to the town came to a complete halt. The towns people eventually sent people to the mansion to investigate, not that they were really worried about the man, just curious. What they found was horrifying. Walking into the mansion was like walking into a horrible blood bath. Blood had been smeared on almost every wall they came across. They searched the place for days, but they never did find Arthur, or any of the bodies of the people who had supposedly gone in and never came out. The conclusion they settled on was that Arthur had been murdered, hence his missing body. Though a few said that he mostly took his own life. But neither stories ever really added up.

The place was cleaned, or as clean as the people could get it without getting horribly lost, and put up for sale. None of the locals would ever consider buying the place, it being labeled as haunted a while after Arthur had been deemed deceased, so it was a very long time before some idiotic American foreigner came and bought the place on a whim.

Some of the people did their best to scare the newcomer away, telling him every story about the insane, malicious spirit that resided within the mansion walls. But this young, tenacious American could not be persuaded by the stories they told, for he did not believe in ghosts or any such things. Within a few days he had his things moved in and organized. And any paranoia or worry about what the locals had told him soon faded with the lack of anything of interest happening within the house. On his daily trips to the town the people would proceed to question him on how he was holding up and if anything weird or unusual was going on in the mansion. His answer, of course, was always no. Or at least for the first month or so, that is.

IVIVIVIVIVI

Alfred walked down a rather long hallway, yawning and stretching his arms as he did so. It was late and he had had a long, hard day of working around the house. The place was really old and had lots of things that needed to either be fixed or completely replaced. It was a lot of work for just one man to do alone, but he rather enjoyed the work. It gave him something to do.

He'd been living here for a good few months now. The locals had built this place up to be a place to be feared when he first came to ask about purchasing the estate. They never gave him to many details or reasons why not to buy the place, other then that it was haunted, so he dismissed their warnings as superstition and a hatred for new, unfamiliar people, as is common around small towns and villages. He'd hoped that after they got to know him that they'd stop with all the superstitious warnings and questions, but as time passed he didn't see it stopping any time soon.

Alfred stopped in front of a wide, fading, red door. Pushing the door open, he entered a rather large bedroom, still decorated in the same old fashion way as it first was by it's previous owner. Alfred was planning on changing it at some point to something more modern, but every time he tried to do it something in the back of his mind always stopped him from doing so. He couldn't pinpoint what it was that was stopping him, all he could figure out was that the thought of doing anything to the room gave him a bad feeling. But he wrote the bad feelings off as being caused by the stories the locals told him.

He sighed, closing the door behind him and promptly started pulling off the layers of clothing he was currently wearing, carelessly tossing them onto the floor. He glanced into the mirror hanging on the wall, and thought to himself that he probably should have it taken down. It was a big mirror, taking up the better portion of one wall. He didn't really enjoy having to look at himself constantly while in the room, as handsome as he was.

Now only dressed in red, white and blue boxers, Alfred made his way over to the huge bed that occupied the middle of the room. He placed his glasses on the bedside table and crawled under the heavy covers, getting cozy. He was almost asleep when he heard what sounded like somebody mumbling and fussing over something. He shot up to a sitting position, frantically taking in his surroundings, searching for any intruders in the dark shadows.

"W-who's there?" He stammered, though he had tried hard not to. He couldn't see anyone in the room with him, but he most certainly could still hear them. "I can hear that you are in here, s-show yourself or get out n-now." He tried his best to sound threatening and tough, but the truth was that he really didn't want the intruder to show themselves and hoped that they'd just leave.

Getting no answer, Alfred got out of bed and quickly ran across the room to turn on the lights. There was not a single trace of anyone in the room. But what Alfred did notice was that his clothes were no longer thrown about the room, but instead folded neatly on a chair. Strange, Alfred thought to himself. He decided to shrug it off and went back to bed. Alright, so his clothes were now folded, so what? That's nothing to be scared about, right? Of course not. That's just plain silly.

He slept through the rest of the night as soundly as he could, no sign of anyone being in his room. When he woke up again that morning, he was surprised to see that his close were sprawled about back on the floor again. He blinked, staring at the clothing. They had been folded, hadn't they? Or had he just dreamt that? Not caring to think too much of it, Alfred went through his regular morning routine of showering, making coffee, and eating breakfast.

Alfred's day went pretty much as it normally would. He worked on painting the parlor room, finding the original color horribly outdated and in dire need of painting. He ate lunch in town, bought a few groceries, then continued his work in the parlor once again once he returned. It wasn't until around dinner time that something strange happened.

Alfred was walking down the hallway that lead to the kitchen when he smelt something cooking, or more rather, burning. He didn't remember starting anything in there but none the less ran the rest of the way just in case he did and had simply forgotten. When he reached the kitchen he found it completely empty and cold. Nothing was on the stove or in the oven, and the burning smell had completely vanished. He shook his head, remembering something an old woman in town had once told him.

"_Young lad, do you have the time to spare for me to ask you a few questions?" An elderly woman asked, approaching Alfred, who was sitting in a booth at the only restaurant in the small town. _

"_Sure." Alfred grinned at the lady and motioned for her to take a seat across from him._

"_You're the kid who bought up the Kirkland mansion atop that hill a ways, right?" She asked as she sat down. _

_Alfred nodded, he got that question often. "Yes, I am." _

"_And I'm sure others have told you about the place?"_

_Another nod. "Yes, ma'am."_

"_Have any of them ever told you about the man who lived there, specifically?"_

_Alfred shook his head this time. They have told him very little about the man himself who used to live there before him other then he haunted the place and that he was a bit crazy. That was it. "No, not really."_

"_I see." She paused in thought for a moment. "Have you ever smelt a burning smell coming from the kitchen when you weren't cooking anything?" _

_What does that have to do with anything? "No, ma'am, I haven't. May I ask what that has to do with the previous owner of the mansion?"_

"_They say he was a horrible cook, burned or poisoned almost everything he made. Others say that he cooked up the people that have gone missing in that mansion." _

"_Is that so?" Alfred asked, feigning interest in what the old lady was saying. He didn't really care to listen to their stories, especially when they dealt with ghosts. He just didn't believe in such things._

_She nodded, white hair bobbing with the movement. "Say that he would force people to eat his food. Anyone who did ended up sick with a food poisoning of sorts. Only a few have actually survived." She paused briefly, "They also say that if you're at the right place, at the right time you can smell the burning of food and see the smoke come from the chimney." _

Now Alfred was wondering if that was really true... But of course it wasn't true. It was just his imagination getting to him from the lack of sleep, that had to be it. The town people were just messing with him and that was that. Alfred continued to repeat this to himself as he went about making his dinner. He made himself a few burgers, taking them into the dining room with him when they were finished. The dining room was long and narrow. A long, wooden table was placed along the center, chairs surrounding the entire perimeter of the table. He took a seat at what Alfred had correctly assumed to be the head of the table, with the fancy chair that was placed there compared to all the others around the rest of the table.

The smell of something burning soon returned. He looked back through the archway into the kitchen. Alfred was surprised to find that said room was billowing with black smoke. Alfred scrambled into the kitchen, looking for the source of the smoke, thinking that he must've left something on. He found nothing. And just as soon as soon as the smoke had come it was gone again.

Alfred rubbed at his eyes, trying to eliminate the smoke that had gotten into them. Once he removed his hands from his eyes he took the time to inspect the room. "What the hell?" Upon the counter by the stove sat a plate of… indefinable food. It was black and charred, smelling heavily of the smoke that had filled the room. He picked up one of the burnt objects. And for a moment he considered taking a bite from it, but not wanting to take any chances with getting sick, he set it back down. Concluding that he was just tired and thinking way too much about what the locals had been telling him, because that was the most rationally thing he could think of, Alfred quickly cleaned everything up, having lost his appetite and headed for his room.

Again, Alfred didn't believe in ghosts or hauntings. No, that was just silly. Such things were impossible. The people who claimed to be haunted by a ghost were just crazy people seeing things or people desperate to get on T.V. That was all there was to it. Simple as that. He had no reason to believe in spirits or ghosts. None at all. And this house and the crazy towns people weren't going to change his mind on that subject.

Alfred stopped short in the hallway, merely feet away from his bedroom. The door was open, and he was absolutely sure that he had closed it this morning when he left the room, he always closed the door. How odd, he thought to himself. He continued into the room, though passing through the doorway was like walking outside during the winter, freezing cold. He shivered, why was it so cold? It was only in this room too. The rest of the house had been perfectly warm.

"There must be something up with the heating or something." Alfred mumbled to himself. He had originally planned to do more work after dinner, but after today's events he thought it best to turn in early. Plus, he was freezing and the covers of his bed were invitingly warm.

IVIVIVIVIVI

A few days passed without any weird occurrences and Alfred began to believe he had just imagined it all. A random bout of craziness, you could say. He had stopped his work for a bit, deciding that it was the stress and paint fumes getting to him. But it turned out that that wasn't quite the case.

Alfred was walking about the garden that lay hidden behind the mansion. It was a nice day, sunny with only a few clouds. Days like this were very rare for usually it was rainy and cloudy. But despite how peaceful and calm it was out there, Alfred couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched or followed or something. He was constantly checking over his shoulders and in the bushes around him but he never found anyone there.

Irritated with the feeling of being watched and followed and not being able to find who it was, though he_ knew _someone was most certainly there, he called out, "I know you're there! Show yourself, you coward!"

No one stepped out from behind the bushes or trees. No one materialized right in front of him either. But he did hear the distinct sound of footsteps coming from behind him. Alfred turned around quickly, but saw nothing there. He was about to leave and head back for the house, hoping to escape from the eerie feeling of being watched, and was just turning back when a rock went flying past him, just barely missing him.

"Holy shit!" Alfred exclaimed, looking back in the direction the rock had come from. He'd been expecting to see someone standing there or at least the retreating back of the one who'd thrown the rock. But there was still no one there to be seen. There was absolutely no one there, though he could have sworn he heard footsteps and could feel someone stop only feet away from him. The air around him became cold, making him shiver. Alfred stood completely still. He could feel someone touching his arm and breathing down his neck. He was sure of it.

Just as fast as the coldness had come, much like the smoke had, it was gone. Alfred let out a deep breath he didn't even know he'd been holding it in the first place. He took a few deep, shaky breaths then quickly headed inside, no longer wanting to be outside. Once inside, he slammed the door behind him, as if whatever was outside wouldn't be able to get in, which was hardly the case.

Alfred sighed, shaking his head. "I'm letting those silly old tales get to my head. That's all. I just imagined that whole thing outside. I've always been told that I have a rather active imagination, after all." He attempted to rationalize what had happened in the garden. And it somewhat worked. The more he said it was his imagination, the better he felt.

The rest of his afternoon went without much event. It was calm and quiet. Alfred even decided to go back to working on the house. With the distraction of work, Alfred was able to forget about the incident in the garden for a little bit. It was nice while it lasted. It all came back to him, though, walking down the hallway to his room. In the distance Alfred could hear the sound of doors being opened and closed in another hallway nearby. With the slam of each door followed soft footsteps.

Alfred hurried into his room, quietly closing and locking the door behind him. His heart raced, the lights beginning to flicker on and off as the footsteps came closer. The room grew cold, very cold, much like it had before.

"P-please leave me alone." Alfred stammered, feeling the presence of something in the room with him. "I'm sorry if I angered you, dude." It was the only thing he could think to say.

The lights went out completely, leaving Alfred in the dark. Harsh laughter came from the far, dark corner of the room across from him. This made chills crawl up Alfred's spine. He didn't like the sound of that laugh. He didn't like the fact that he could hear any laughter at all. He peered into the corner from which the sound came from, hoping to catch sight of who was there. All he could make out, though, was the dark, vague form of a humanoid figure.

"Heh, he thinks that he's angered me. Cute." The voice echoed around the room. It was a males voice, thick with a British accent, much like everyone else in the town. "Not angry, my boy, annoyed would be the better term. Especially after you called me 'dude', but that's beside the point."

"W-who are you?" Alfred tried to sound brave. He tried, but it didn't work. His question was pretty dumb too, since he had a pretty good guess as to who it was, as much as he hated to admit that fact.

"Oh, I'm sure the towns people have told you something or another about me. They have quite the stories about me, truly." Alfred could hear the smirk on the man's face. More chills ran up and down his spine. "But if you need the introduction, I am Arthur Kirkland."

"Why don't you show yourself, Arthur? I know it's you who's been doing all those things! So why don't you stop hiding already?" Alfred had no idea where any of that came from. He was just tired of talking to and being scared of an unknown face.

The dark figure hummed, pondering his options. "Hm, alright." The dark figure stepped out of the corner, the moonlight coming from the window making him visible. He had messy, short, blond hair. His eyes were a brilliant, glowing, emerald green. He was somewhat translucent but his skin was still obviously very pale. His clothing style was that of which Alfred did not recognize for it was that of an older style. He didn't look much older than Alfred, though. Maybe three or four years older. And though he looked small and frail, comparatively speaking to Alfred at least, he held himself in a way that made him seem powerful.

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><p><strong>There ya go! I hope you enjoyed this silly thing!<strong>

**So, as is custom on my stories lately, I'll leave you guys with a few questions for you to answer if you so choose to do so.**

**1: What is your opinion of Ghost!Arthur?**

**2: Is Arthur really as mean and crazy as the people make him out to be?**

**3: How is Alfred going to deal with the ghost?**

**4: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits?**

**That's it for now. ^^ Please review, it makes me happy and more motivated to continue writing.**

**Edit: **After reading through this, I have come to the conclusion that this fic is completely silly and ridiculous and I have no idea why any of you even like it. However, I shall continue with my edits and leave you with hopes of possible future chapters to come.


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, hello there again! Before we get started here, I'd like to say a few things. **

**First, thank you to all who reviewed on this. You all made me very happy. ^^ So, thank you to Amelia Mills(Especially for pointing out my putting of close instead of clothes), MidknightPhantom, MarthLover298, Psychopathic Robot 9, and 'An Unknown Admirer'(The way you worded/wrote your review threw me off a bit, to be completely honest. I was quite surprised by how formal it all seemed but I rather enjoyed that. You don't see that often around here. ^^). Also a quick thank you to all who have added this to their favorites. **

**Second, this story may take me a lot longer to update then it does for my other stories. I want this one to turn out really good and actually have a plot to it, of which a lot of my other stories lack. So, I'm going to apologize now that this will be slow on the updates. **

**And I think that's about all I have to say for now. So, let's commence with the story! :D**

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><p>Alfred stared for a moment. He didn't know what he had been expecting, but this sure wasn't it. Maybe some scary, evil looking person with the way the people had described him and what he did and all. But he wasn't scary looking in the least bit. No, he was quite the opposite actually. "You're… Arthur?" It was a stupid question but Alfred couldn't think of anything else.<p>

"You are correct." Arthur nodded, folding his arms. "Were you expecting something else?" He asked, sounding as if he were daring Alfred to say otherwise.

"N-No, no. Ah… I'll just be going now." Spinning around on his heals, Alfred quickly made his way towards the door, trying his best not to start running. He didn't exactly know where he was going to go, he just wanted to get away from Arthur.

"Oh dear, leaving already?" Arthur took one step forward before disappearing and reappearing in front of Alfred, stopping him short of making it out the door. "I'm afraid I can't allow that, Alfred."

Alfred broke out in a cold sweat. How does he know my name, he thought but didn't dare to ask aloud. "Wh-why not?" He asked instead, stuttering as he did so. He knew he sounded weak and he hated it. He wasn't used to feeling like this, like a scared, helpless little child. Normally he was the one who always acted brave, the hero if you may. It was not like him to be afraid. But despite all that bravery he had, when it came to ghosts and the like it was a whole different story. Ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them were the one thing that Alfred was truly afraid of. There really was no explanation as to why, the best guess being that he watched to many scary movies or read too many scary books as a child.

Arthur completely ignored Alfred's question, simply waving it off. He didn't have to explain himself to the likes of someone like Alfred. "You will be staying here." Arthur stated in a way the left no room for any complaints or compromise. "For it is already getting late, and it wouldn't do you any good to go wandering about at such a time."

Had it gotten late? What time was it anyways? More importantly, why did Arthur care if he was up late? Alfred didn't know the answer to any of those questions, not really caring to get an answer for the last one either. All Alfred cared about at the moment was getting away. He sprang forward, running directly through Arthur. He didn't bother to pay attention once he got into the hallway, running down many different corridors before finally settling on going into a random room.

He leaned back against the door to the room he'd entered, taking a few moments to catch his breath. He hoped that the ghost hadn't followed him or at least wouldn't find him for a good long while. Listening carefully for any signs that Arthur had followed him and only after not hearing anything, he chanced opening the door and peeking out, just to make sure. There was absolutely nothing that he could see but that most certainly didn't mean that Arthur wasn't there.

Only after deciding that he was safe, for now, did he actually take the time to look about the room and take in his surroundings. There was a desk placed in front of a rather large window. A few bookshelves lined the walls on either side of the room. Old maps and paintings decorated the wall space that wasn't covered by the bookshelves. A large, old glob was placed in the corner of the room. A study, Alfred decided after taking in the contents of the room. There were a great many of these room all around the mansion so it wasn't very uncommon to come by one randomly.

Alfred approached the desk, finding papers and documents spread across the top of it. It was a tad bit dark in the room but with the moon and starlight coming through the window, Alfred was able to read what some of the papers said. The first one the Alfred picked up just so happened to be a letter written in fancy, curly handwriting.

_Cher ami,_

_My, my Arthur. From the last letter you have sent me, it seems to me you are in quite the predicament at this time, non? What exactly is it that you plan to do with all those people? Surly you are not planning to harm them!  
><em>

_Arthur, mon ami, if you are going to do what is that I believe you're going to do, then I shall advise you that you must not. It will only cause more problems then it would solve. And I must say that I would miss you terribly if you go through with it! There must be another way out without having to go to such drastic measures. Il doit y avoir!  
><em>

_But if this is what you've decided to do, then I know it's helpless to try and talk you out of it. I know I have already said this but I shall truly miss you, even if you are un bâtard at times, Arthur. I'd like for you to pay me one last visit here in France, if you aren't too busy, before you go through with this horrible act._

_Amour, Francis Bonnefoy_

Alfred didn't know what to make of the letter. Who was Francis? What was this horrible act Arthur was going to do? What did he do with those people that were mentioned? Alfred was only getting more and more questions, with little to no answers. He set down the letter and began looking through the rest of the papers. But after finding nothing of too much interest, he sat down in the old chair by the desk. Leaning forward, he laid his head on the desk, using his arms as a pillow. He was tired and wanted to go to sleep, but the fear of the ghost returning kept him awake. At least for a little bit it did. But despite his efforts to stay awake, Alfred eventually fell asleep.

IVIVIVIVIVI

Alfred yawned, stretching as he sat up straight in the chair. At first he'd thought that everything that'd happened had only been a dream but when he opened his eyes the thought was blown away. Staring back at him from across the other side of the desk were bright green eyes. A scowl was present on the man's face. Alfred 'eeped' and jumped back, causing him and the chair to fall backwards.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, walking around the desk to stand above Alfred. "You know, I had originally thought that you were a brave man, Alfred." He stated, looking down at Alfred, whom was still on the floor. "But it seems I was wrong. You're nothing but a scared, little child."

"I-I'm not scared!" Alfred stuttered in protest, scooting away from Arthur a bit before standing up. "Wh-what makes you think that I'm scared?"

Arthur hummed, an amused smirk taking the place of the scowl from earlier. "Do not deny it, for it is written all over your face." Arthur then turned his attention from Alfred to the papers on the desk, moving to pick up one of the papers. Alfred half expected for his hand to go straight through the paper so he was sort of surprised when Arthur was able to hold the paper as if he were a sold, living being. It was the letter from that guy named Francis. And yet again Arthur went through another facial expression change as he looked at the letter. This time from amused to a more solemn, nostalgic one.

And at that moment, Arthur didn't look like a scary ghost to Alfred. He didn't see some crazy, scary guy. No, instead he saw a lonely man. Someone who was so used to being alone all the time that he didn't know any better than to be cruel to the people he met. He was close to almost feeling sorry for the guy but that was quickly forgotten when Arthur's face quickly turned sour again.

As quietly as he possibly could, Alfred tried to sneak out of the room, praying that Arthur wouldn't notice him leaving. Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur did notice. "Off to hide again, I suppose." He said in a bored tone. "Do try a bit harder on finding a decent place to hide this time if hiding is what you're intending to do."

This caught Alfred off guard. Did he want Alfred to hide? He was curious but he wasn't about to ask anytime soon, though. Instead he continued making his way to the door, only this time in a more fast-past manner. Once in the hall he took his time to look down both directions that the hallway led to. He had no idea where he was or how to get back to the part of the mansion that he knew. So, he settled for taking a random direction and hoping for the best.

He wasn't wandering about too long before he started getting hungry. His stomach growled loudly, demanding food. "Shh. I know, I know. I'll find us some food soon." Alfred shushed his stomach even though he knew that that wouldn't stop it from growling.

"Talking to yourself already?" Arthur's voice echoed around Alfred but the other was nowhere to be seen. "Would you like some assistance in finding the kitchen?"

"That's implying that I'm lost." Alfred stated, glaring weakly at the empty air around him, though he had no clue where to aim the glare.

"Are you not lost?" Alfred could hear it in Arthur's voice that he was clearly amused. Alfred was positive that if he could see Alfred he'd see an amused smirk on his face.

"No, I'm not." Alfred huffed. That was obviously a complete lie, though. Alfred was indeed hopelessly lost but there was no way that he'd admit that. At least not just yet.

"Hm, alright then. If you say so." Arthur hummed in reply only to then go quiet.

Alfred was being stubborn and he knew it. Alfred didn't want help from a ghost. He didn't want to be anywhere near the ghost. What he wanted was for it to go away and leave him alone… No, that was a partial lie. At least there was someone there to, well, talk to. Living alone in such a big place like this, one was bound to get lonely eventually. Sure, the village people were nice enough but… It's not the same as having someone around all the time.

Some time passed and Alfred was getting absolutely no where. He still had no clue where he was or where he was going. The growling in his stomach were becoming more and more frequent. Alfred stopped in the middle of a long hallway. "Alright, I give." He said with an irritated tone. "Dude, can you help me find the kitchen?" There was only silence as an answer and Alfred was beginning to think that Arthur had gone elsewhere, that or he was just being horribly mean and letting him starve.

"So you admit that you are lost after all. It only took you 3 hours." Arthur appeared in front of Alfred, arms crossed. "I'll show you how to get there on the condition that you ask politely."

"What?" Alfred blinked, a bit confused.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "It's not like I was speak another language, Alfred. If you ask me politely I shall take you to where it is you want to go."

"Oh.. Uh.. Will you please help me find the kitchen?" Alfred asked, trying to use the politest tone he would muster.

"Yes." Arthur said with a slight node of his head. "Right this way." Turning his back to Alfred, Arthur began walking down the hallway.

They walked in silence. Alfred to scared to say anything and Arthur just didn't have anything to say. After taking a few turns here and there they were finally in the kitchen. Walking into the kitchen was like walking into Heaven for Alfred. He'd finally get to eat! And that's exactly what he did.

Arthur watched in disgust as Alfred ate. He was showing no restraint or manners and it was rather disgusting. At some point during Alfred's eating frenzy, Arthur left, finding Alfred's lack of manners offensive. Alfred didn't even notice that he was gone till sometime later. He was both relieved and upset about the absence of the ghost.

IVIVIVIVIVI

And this is how life between Alfred and Arthur would continue for a while. Arthur only showing up when he felt like it. Alfred trying to run and hide from the ghost but was somehow always found rather easily. Alfred would get lost often and Arthur would only agree to help him if asked politely. It became a constant game of Hide-and-Seek. A game that Alfred got so engrossed in that he rarely ever left the mansion.

This caused a lot of questions and rumors to spread around the village. Some weren't to far from the actual truth. One being that the ghost of Arthur had finally gotten to Alfred. But there were also some that were far from the truth. That Alfred had taken heed to their warnings and left.

So when Alfred had finally made an appearance in the village he was instantly bombarded with questions, mostly from the older people.

"Alfred, deary, where have you been all this time?" One old woman asked.

"I've been up at the mansion cleaning and what not." Alfred replied in a nonchalant way.

"You haven't ran into Kirkland yet, have you?" Another one asked.

"Nope, haven't seen or heard any ghosts around the place." He lied, of course he had but they didn't need to know. He couldn't understand why but for some reason he got the feeling that telling these old ladies the truth wouldn't end well. There was one question on his mind, though. "Excuse me, but do any of you happen to know anyone named Francis Bonnefoy?"

"Mister Bonnefoy? Oh, what a charming man he was. He was, from what I gathered, a good friend of Kirkland's." The first lady said.

"May I ask how you know of Mister Bonnefoy?" The second lady asked, looking curiously at Alfred.

"Oh, I stumbled across some papers while cleaning the study and among them was a letter from Bonnefoy." There was some truth to his answer this time.

Alfred could have just asked Arthur about Francis but he was afraid that it'd set the other off. The ghost was very easy to anger, it was one of the first lessons that Alfred had learned. He had so many more questions he wanted to ask Arthur but again, he was afraid of the reaction that he'd get. Though you had to give the man some credit, he was becoming less and less afraid of Arthur being around. He was gradually overcoming his fear of ghosts. So maybe he could ask Arthur eventually.

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><p><strong>It's snowing. I hate the snow, I really truly do. -_- Bleh. And I'm going to need a new laptop here soon. The little one that I'm using now is starting to die on me. D: My poor baby! I don't wanna replace you! *Hugs laptop*<strong>

**Ah, yeah, I thought of something that I didn't say at the beginning of this chapter. I don't plan on having many chapters for this story. So it may seem to be a bit, uh, rushed? I don't know. That might just be me. **

**Now for the questions!**

**1: If you answered yes to the question from the last chapter of whether or not you believed in ghosts, what makes you believe that they are real? **

**2: Is there anything else you believe in? Like fairies, aliens, ect.**

**3: What do you look for in a fanfic?**

**And that's all I've got. So, thanks for reading. ^^ And please review, it means a lot to me. Mm, and I apologize if this sucked at all.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone~ ^^ I'm back with another chapter mainly because… I've got nothing better to do with my life right now…. Or ever, for that matter. Hmm…**

**I'd like to start with replying to 'An Unknown Admirer' (I'm shortening your name to AUA… I hope you don't mind. ^^). I normally don't reply to reviews in this way but seeing as there is no other possible way… This'll have to do for I have some things I'd like to say. **

**AUA: No need to apologize. ^^ I don't think it's odd, it's different but not odd. And I rather enjoy the slight challenge it gives me to read it. (Meaning, I have to read it over a few times to fully understand what you wrote. x3) I like it a lot more then trying to read over horrid grammar and what not.  
>1) I understand what you mean. I am very acquainted with the feeling of being watched and followed when no one is there. As well as the feeling that if I take one more step forward I'll run into someone when clearly there's no one standing in front of me.<br>****3) All good things to look for in a story. And I'm glad that mine seems to have caught your attention.  
><strong>**Thank you. ^^ Though it is not grammatical errors that I worry about, I do appreciate the reassurance about it. Umm… Actually, I do not really know the answer to that question. Arthur's speech, or ****linguistic mannerisms as you put it, could be copied from almost anywhere as far as ****I know. I can think of a few possible places of which it could have come from, you being included in that list. **

**And I shall end that there… I have so much more I could say but it is best that I don't for I tend to talk a lot. **

**One more quick statement. This chapter is going to follow Arthur through the first two chapters. ^^**

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><p>Arthur stood in the center of the parlor, watching Alfred as he worked on painting the room. He couldn't fathom any reason for the American to be doing such a thing. The style and colors were just fine if you asked him but Alfred instated that it be changed. Arthur thought this to be a bit annoying but overall he didn't really care. It wasn't his house anymore, it now belonged to Alfred so Alfred could do whatever he wanted to.<p>

_That _is what annoyed Arthur more than anything. It wasn't his anymore. He did not own _his_ mansion. And he most certainly wasn't alone in the mansion anymore like he was all those years ago. He had to share his home now with the rather loud American here in front of him. He wasn't exactly pleased with the idea of sharing his beloved home and most certainly not pleased that since he wasn't technically alive the place didn't belong to him anymore like it used to.

When Alfred had first moved into the place Arthur had settled with just ignoring that he was even there. Maybe he'd eventually leave? But that wasn't the case. Much to Arthur's dismay Alfred showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. So Arthur decided that he'd make things a little more interesting and perhaps have a little fun with Alfred. He might as well if he was going to have to put up with the other being there, right?

One night he had randomly decided that he'd follow Alfred to his bedroom. He's original intent was to try and frighten Alfred a bit but that idea changed when Alfred had begun getting undressed shortly after entering the room. Arthur knew that Alfred couldn't see him but that didn't keep Arthur from blushing horribly and turning away. It was silly, really. Once the lights had been turned off and he heard the sound of blankets being moved on the bed did Arthur know that it was safe for him to turn around again. The first thing that Arthur noticed was that Alfred had thrown his clothes carelessly about the room. It was none of Arthur's business how Alfred treated his clothes but he couldn't help himself but to start fussing over them, folding them neatly and setting them on a nearby chair.

Alfred had woken up just as Arthur had finished folding the clothes. It was more then likely that he had heard Arthur. "W-who's there?" He had asked weakly. "I can hear that you are in here, s-show yourself or get out n-now." Arthur held back the small amount of amusement caused by how frightened Alfred sounded. He watched as Alfred ran across the room to turn on the lights. He had inspected the now folded clothes and finding nothing of interest, soon went back to bed. Arthur watched him for a few short moments. A string of horrible things that he could do to this young man went through his mind. All of them seemed like a lot of fun and would definitely prove to be satisfying but something kept him from attempting to do any of them. Something deep within him told him not to harm the boy.

The next day Arthur had left Alfred alone for the most part. He'd watched him paint much like he was doing now. It was about dinner time when Arthur, having gotten bored, decided that he'd cook something. He waited until Alfred had finished making his food before he started baking scones. Sure, he was a ghost but that didn't mean he couldn't touch and move things like any other living person. He took the scones out of the oven once they had finished, the room filling with black smoke as he did so. This was something that happened often when he cooked, he could never figure out why so he settled with just ignoring it. Putting the scones on a plate, he left them sitting on the counter.

It wasn't long before Alfred came running into the room to see where all the smoke was coming from. After some of the smoke had cleared out Alfred took interest into the scones that Arthur had set on the counter. It looked as if he was about to try one but then changed his mind and set it back down.

After that Arthur didn't bother with Alfred for a few days. He wanted Alfred to start thinking that nothing had ever happened, it was just all in his head. He seemed like the type who would do such a thing and Arthur was going to have at least a little fun with that. Once he was sure that Alfred had decided it was all his imagination, Alfred had stated it out loud after all, he began to follow Alfred out in the garden, a large garden that he had planted and kept himself long ago and still tried his best to keep today. Alfred must have heard Arthur walking behind him for he turned to look behind him quickly before continuing on. A few more steps later Alfred turned again and yelled, "I know you're there! Show yourself, you coward!" Arthur smirked, amused by the reaction that he got from Alfred by merely following him. But despite being amused his eye still twitched in slight annoyance at being called a coward. Arthur did not take lightly to being called such a name.

When Alfred had turned back around once again, Arthur picked up a small rock that was sitting by his foor. This should get his attention, he thought before he threw the rock, aiming it so that it'd just barely miss him. "Holy shit!" Arhur heard Alfred exclaimed as he spun around once more. Arthur walked towards Arthur, knowing well that Alfred would hear him but not see him. He stood directly in front of Alfred and at first there was little to no reaction. Standing there made Arthur wonder... He knew that he could touch and pick up nonliving things but he'd never tried to physically touch someone since he'd woken up back in his mansion as a ghost of sorts. So as an experiment he reached out and grabbed Alfred's arm lightly. The results were pleasing to say the least. The look on Alfred's face was quite an amusing one as well. He looked positively horrified. Despite this, Arthur let go and took a few steps back, being as silently as he possibly could. Alfred was quick to take this opportunity to head back to the house.

Arthur waited till that evening to make his presence known once again. Walking down a random hallway he began opening and closing doors. Why? He didn't really have a reason other than that he was bored. He could hear Alfred's hurried foot steps as he did this. He made his way to Alfred's bedroom knowing that that was where he'd find the other, walking through the door once he got there. He wanted to see Alfred's scared expression again so he made the lights flicker, something he'd learned to do in his free time before Alfred had shown up.

"P-please leave me alone. I'm sorry if I angered you, dude." Angered? Where had the boy gotten that idea? A smirk crossed Arthur's lips, an idea forming in his mind. What if he showed himself to Alfred? Arthur kept to the dark corner of the room, making himself visible but still covering himself in darkness.

"Heh, he thinks that he's angered me. Cute." His voice echoed around the room. It had been a long time since he last spoke out loud. It felt rather nice if he were to be completely honest. "Not angry, my boy, annoyed would be the better term. Especially after you called me '_dude_'." He said the word with as much distaste as he could. It was true, though, being called dude did annoy him a little but really not all that much to be angry about it.

"W-who are you?"

"Oh, I'm sure the towns people have told you something about me. They have quite some stories about me. But if you need the introduction, I am Arthur Kirkland." Yes, Arthur knew of the things the towns people said about him. He knew all their little myths and stories that they told. He even knew about all the warnings they had given Alfred. Of course he knew! And Arthur found it to be rather amusing.

"Why don't you show yourself, Arthur? I know it's you who's been doing all those things! So why don't you stop hiding already?" Alfred demanded, only furthering Arthur's amusement.

"Hm, alright." Arthur said coolly before stepping out from the dark corner and into the small amount of light that came in from the window.

"You're… Arthur?" It was such a silly question on Alfred's part. Arthur had just stated that he was indeed Arthur so why did he ask again? Ah, perhaps he had been expecting Arthur to look differently. He probably had some monster imagined, Arthur thought to himself, mentally rolling his eyes. Of course that'd be the first thing that'd come to Alfred's mind when it came to what Arthur actually looked like.

"You are correct." Arthur nodded, folding his arms. "Were you expecting something else?" He asked, sounding as if he were daring Alfred to say otherwise.

"N-No, no. Ah… I'll just be going now." Arthur watched as Alfred spun around and quickly started heading for the door. But Arthur was not done with Alfred just yet.

"Oh dear, leaving already?" Arthur took one step forward before disappearing and reappearing in front of Alfred, stopping him short of making it out the door. "I'm afraid I can't allow that, Alfred." Truthfully, Arthur didn't really intend on making Alfred stay there. What he wanted was to make Alfred run. There's nothing funner then a small game of chase. Well, there are plenty of things funner than that but you get the point.

"Wh-why not?" His voice was small and weak. There was something else that Arthur saw. He looked tired. Exhausted even. And though it wasn't Arthur's problem to worry about, he knew that it was probably, at the least, partially his fault. Though why should he care? He would have never thought twice about it years ago so why did it bother him now?

"You will be staying here." Arthur stated in a way the left no room for any complaints or compromise. "For it is already getting late and it wouldn't do you any good to go wandering about at such a time." But Alfred's reaction to this was that of the one he had been wanting earlier. Alfred bolted from the room and down the hall. Arthur frowned slightly but quickly covered it up with his usual amused smirk.

When Arthur had finally found Alfred again, he'd found him in what used to be his personal study. Of all rooms he could have ran to it had to be this one. Alfred had fallen asleep at the desk. Arthur couldn't help but note that Alfred looked a lot like a child in his sleep. So cute and innocent. Naturally he'd never admit that he thought that out loud.

Arthur walked about the room waiting for Alfred to wake up. He did not need to sleep like Alfred did. Arthur saw this as both convenient and inconvenient. And at this particular moment it was a major inconvenience. Time passed so slowly and there's only so much one could do. Eventually, though, Alfred woke up only to fall gracefully backwards out of the chair when he saw Arthur standing directly across from him. Arthur was greatly amused by this as he was with more reactions he got from the American. Arthur walked around the table to stand next to Alfred, looking down at him he said, "You know, I had originally thought that you were a brave man, Alfred. But it seems I was wrong. You're nothing but a scared, little child."

"I-I'm not scared!" Alfred protested. Arthur watched as he scooted away from him a bit before standing up. "Wh-what makes you think that I'm scared?"

Arthur hummed, an amused smirk taking the place of the scowl from earlier. "Do not deny it, for it is written all over your face." Arthur then turned his attention from Alfred to the papers on the desk, moving to pick up one of the papers. It was a letter that he'd picked up. It was from Francis. Francis was probably the only person who had not phased by Arthur and his somewhat crazy ways. Arthur was both annoyed and happy about this. To actually have someone to consider and talk to as a friend was nice but sometimes the Frenchman could over step the line and get a little too close and personal for Arthur's liking which annoyed him, naturally.

Out of the corner of his eye Arthur could see Alfred quietly trying to leave the room. "Off to hide again, I suppose." He said in a bored tone. "Do try a bit harder on finding a decent place to hide this time if hiding is what you're intending to do."

This led to a long few hours of Alfred wandering the mansion trying to find his way to the kitchen. Arthur had offered to help him but he was quickly denied. So he settled with just silently following him until he decided that he did indeed need his help, which he knew Alfred would need. Eventually he did ask and Arthur gladly showed him the way.

A few days later and here they were now. Alfred painting the walls while Arthur silently watched like stated earlier. Alfred had been showing great improvement in being scared of Arthur and now he no longer ran from him anymore much like he had in the beginning. Much to Arthur's disappointment.

"You know you could at least help me finish painting this." Alfred mumbled, adding more paint onto his brush.

"And why should I offer my help to something that I do not approve of?" Arthur hummed silently to himself. He came to stand next to Alfred. "I do not see your point on doing this. It looked just fine before."

Alfred snorted. "It was outdated and old." He stated then added as an afterthought, "A lot like you."

Arthur growled and smacked Alfred across the back of his head, earning an 'ow' in complaint. "That was hardly called for."

"Yeah, well you hitting me was hardly called for too!" Alfred shot back, glaring at Arthur though it was completely ineffective.

"No, I do believe that it was indeed called for."

"Whatever, dude. Are you going to help me paint or not?" Alfred asked once again.

"Not. I already told you I wasn't going to help with something I don't approve of. Weren't you listening? And with you being as rude as you are now, I most defiantly have no reason to help you."

"Aw, come one!" Alfred whined and stopped painting to look at Arthur with puppy dog eyes. "Please? I'd get done a lot sooner if you helped me." He begged.

Arthur flinched at the look Alfred was giving him. There was once a time where a look like that would have never worked on him. It would have merely served to annoy him even further then he already was. But for some reason or another the look was very effective coming from Alfred. Arthur growled lightly, averting his eyes from Alfred. "Tch, I suppose I could help." He said as he picked up the second paint brush.

* * *

><p><strong>There. Now you sorta know what Arthur was up to and what not for the first two chapters. Bah... I mainly just wanted to try something out... And yeah. Here we are. This would have been posted a lot earlier. But my laptop charger decided to stop working so my laptop died. I had to wait till late at night for my mom to come home from work to get a new one. While at Wal-Mart I had I bit of an argument with here about paying for it. Eventually I got the new one and started working on this only to fall asleep an halfway or so into it. I work on it all day Sunday but just as I'm getting ready to post it and what not it decides thaat it doesn't want to let me do that... Grr... But here it is now!<strong>

**And, yes, in my mind a ghost _can _blush. lol Deal with it. **

**1) Are ghosts/spirits able to experience different feelings and think for themselves?**

**2) If you were to be haunted by a ghost of sorts would you be scared of it? Even if it showed no intention of harming you?**

**3) What do you believe the reason is for ghosts to stick around instead of moving on?**

**Hmn, I think that's it.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well, hello there! Guess what guys! I'm back with the next chapter! Woo! Thank you to all who reviewed, it means a lot to me. ^^ If I could give each of you one of my infamous cake cookies, I would. Sadly, though, I can't. Yeah, so I don't really know what to say right now… But I should probably tell you this - We're going to back to Alfred for part of this chapter then it shall sort of switch on and off with Arthur... In a way. You'll see... Oh! And slight FrUk hints~ ;) Yeah, that is all. **

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><p>With the parlor now finished; re-painted, updated furniture, everything, Alfred was finally able to move on in the house. Of course, he didn't plan on changing <em>all <em>of the rooms. He'd be working on the place until the day he died and he did not want to spend the rest of his life doing that. But there were just those few rooms that _had _to be changed. No matter how much Arthur complained, it had to be done.

Alfred now stood holding various paint cans in what he assumed was the living room or at least the equivalent of one. Setting down the paint cans, he sighed as he looked around the room.

"Seriously, dude, what were you on when you decorated these rooms?" Alfred said to seemingly thin air. But it wasn't long before Arthur made his appearance beside Alfred.

"I honestly haven't a clue what you're on about." Arthur huffed, crossing his arms.

Alfred shook his head. "Whatever you say, dude."

"Why do you insist on calling me 'dude'?" Arthur inquired, looking at Alfred with great curiosity.(1) He had heard the American use the term many times before and had even heard it occasionally when he was still among the living, but he didn't quite understand why Alfred kept calling him that. "I do have a name, you know."

"Yeah, I know. It's just a habit, I guess." Taking the plastic that he had been using to keep the floor from getting paint on it, he spread it out on the floor by the wall. "So, you going to help me again?"

"Absolutely not. I only helped last time because your begging caught me off guard. And just so you know, it's not going to work on me this time so don't even bother trying."

Sniggering, Alfred popped open one of the paint cans, using a paint stick to mix it up. "Yeah, suuure." Dipping his paint brush into the liquid color he started painting, continuing to talk with Arthur as he did so. "If you're not going to help me then you'll at least stay here with me so I don't get bored, right?"

Arthur hummed to himself for a moment. What else was there to do? "I suppose I could do that much."

"Awesome!"

With that the two of them talked for quite some time and it wasn't to long until Alfred had begun to ask Arthur questions about when he was still alive and about what had happened to him all those years ago.

"Okay, so don't get mad at me but a while ago I came across this letter from this guy named Francis, and…" He stopped talking when he saw the dark, threatening look he was getting from Arthur. Continuing anyways, he said, "And I just wanted to know who he was to you, that's all." It wasn't exactly what he wanted to ask but it was a good enough start.

"Francis, hm?" Seething to himself for a short moment, he then coolly answered Alfred's question. "Francis was nothing more than an annoying, perverted frog that thought it was his job to be sure that I did not do anything I would regret… It is a shame that he failed at keeping his promise." Arthur stared down at his partially see-through hands, a wave of something akin to despair and sadness washing over him.

Alfred, noticing the sour mood the Brit was now in, stopped painting and turned to face Arthur. "Woah, dude, what happened?"

"It's... It's nothing too important Alfred, dear." Arthur said, trying his best to return to his cool composure he had earlier.

"That's obviously a lie." Alfred stated flatly. "Come on, what happened? What did he do? Or didn't do? Or whatever..?"

Arthur sighed. "I suppose you won't leave it alone until I tell you, correct?"

Alfred nodded. "Yup."

"Fine then. I suppose I'll just have to tell you everything then." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, then said. "It's a rather long story and I'm not telling it twice, so you better pay close attention to what I say, got it?"

Another nod. "Got it!"

IVIVIVIVI-Flashy back thingy-IVIVIVIVI

A teenage Arthur stood out back of the mansion, admiring the many different roses and other flowers that he had planted in the garden. Flowers were every where in the garden, covering almost every inch of it. And Arthur had planted and nurtured each and every one of them to the state that they were now. He spent many hours of every day tending to them and he had absolutely no problem with it. He loved being out in the garden.

On this particular day, though, there was something a titch off in the air. Like someone had trespassed into Arthur's happy place. And, in fact, someone had. There, by some of Arthur's beloved roses, stood a young man with long, blonde hair, slight stubble. He was about the same age as Arthur, give or take a few years.

Glaring darkly at the intruder, Arthur stalked up to him. "What the bloody hell are you doing in my garden?" He demanded to know.

"Désolé! Désolé!" The blonde said frantically in French, holding both hands up in defense. "But I could not help myself! These roses are just far to gorgeous." He said like that would completely justify his trespassing on someone else's property.

"That is not a satisfactory reason for your being here." Keeping his glare trained on the Frenchman, he asked or rather, demanded. "Tell me, what is your name."

"Je m'apelle Francis Bonnefoy." He answered, smiling brightly at Arthur.

Arthur was a bit taken aback, not expecting Francis to smile at him like that. In all truthfulness, it had been years since anyone had smiled at him like that. Most people would cringe away from the Brit, only ever showing expressions of fear or hatred. It happened so often that Arthur eventually accepted it was the norm. So receiving a friendly smile, from a complete stranger none the less, Arthur wasn't exactly sure how to react.

"'Bonjour! Mon ami, c'est quelqu'un là-bas?" Francis asked after a few moment of silence, waving a hand in front of Arthur's face.

"What?" He snapped at the Frenchman, swatting his hand away. Arthur knew little to no French. He had refused to learn it because of his dislike for French. "Speak English, frog."

"Aha! So someone is there in that head of yours!" Francis exclaimed.

Growling in frustration, Arthur deepened his glare. "Get out of my garden." A dark aura seemingly formed around Arthur, sending off threatening vibes. Whereas most people would have ran away by now, Francis remained there.

"Non, I don't think I will." Francis said, grinning at Arthur. "You live here alone, don't you? I'm sure some company will do you some good."

"Wha? How did you know I... Never mind, I don't want to know." Arthur sighed, admitting defeat to himself. Softening his glare slightly, he then said, "Ugh, seeing as it can't be helped.. Fine, you may stay, though for only a short while. I can not have you infecting my house with whatever French disease you have on you."

And like that, that was how the two met. The strange encounter turning into some sort of friendship over a short period of time. Francis would invite himself over to Arthur's house, much to the distaste of the Briton. Though, begrudgingly, he began to accept the Frenchman's presence.

IVIVIVI-End of flashy back thingy-IVIVIVI

"So that's how the two of you met?" Alfred asked, oddly fascinated by the story Arthur was telling him. He received a nod from Arthur as confirmation to his question. "You said that he made a promise to you. What exactly was the promise?"

"Hold on, now. I was just getting to that."

Alfred nodded, waiting patiently for Arthur to continue.

IVIVIVIVI-Flashy back thingy 2-IVIVIVIVI

"Mon ami, it has become clear to me that you are not completely right in the head." Francis said one day as he came waltzing through Arthur's front door. "And because of this, I fear that you may do something that you may regret later."

Arthur looked up from the rather large book he'd been reading. "What are you on about now?"

"You and all that crazy merde you do." Francis restated in less words then he originally had said earlier. "I fear for you, mon ami. And that is why I came here to make a promise to you."

Arthur snorted in slight amusement. "I do already have a mother to worry about me, you do know that, right?" But the look on Francis's face was completely serious, so the least Arthur could do was listen to what Francis had to say. "Do go on, what is this promise of your's?"

"I promise to keep you out of as much trouble as I possibly can. Keep you from hurting yourself and others. As well as keep you from doing anything that I know you'd regret later."

"Oh really now?" Arthur hadn't really thought much of the promise Francis had made, nor did he really care all that much for it. What he did was none of Francis's business. But what he did want to know is why Francis cared at all about him and what he did. "I do not understand you, Francis. Why do you care if I do something I'll regret?"

"Oh, that is simple. I merely care about your well being, mon ami."

"Do as you please, just don't get in my way. Got that, frog?"

And that was it. A simple promise that Arthur never thought too much of. But none the less, Francis did keep to his word. That is until he had to move back to France because of family issues. Arthur was surprisingly upset by Francis's departure, a lot more than he'd ever admit to. The two still kept in touch through letters, though.

IVIVIVI-End of flashy back thingy 2-IVIVIVI

"Francis was like your best friend then?"

"If you must label him, then yes, he was something like that I suppose."

Alfred hummed in thought. "Do you know what happened to him?"

Arthur nodded his head. "Yes... He came to visit me a few times when I never replied to the letters he sent. The poor frog was distraught when found out that I... Well, that I was no longer alive..."

There was a short moment of silence between the two. Alfred thinking over all the information he'd been given and Arthur trying his best to gather all his thoughts and memories.

"Shall I continue?" Arthur asked after a short while.

"Of course, dude!"

"Alright. But I must tell you now that it is about here that things get a bit... Well, you'll just have to wait and see.

IVIVIVIVI-Flashy back thingy 3-IVIVIVIVI

Ever since Arthur could remember he'd always had an interest in magic. All kinds of magic. White magic, black magic, even grey magic. Though as much as he liked it and how often he practiced he was never any good at it. His attempts usually ended in failure.

When Francis had discovered this bit of information about Arthur, not only did he poke fun at him for it but he also did his best to wain Arthur from this interest for it was beginning to affect his health. And for a short time it had worked but after he left Arthur was soon back to playing around with magic.

Arthur was also very well known for holding grudges against people for a very, very long time. Mixing this with usage of magic did not equal anything good.

On one particular day, in a fit of fury and rage against the people of the village, Arthur had decided to conjure up a little 'gift' for them. But this particular 'gift' required... A few blood sacrifices. So, as people came to his house he'd lock them up in the many rooms of the house.

"What's the hurry?" He'd ask them, smiling a sickly sweet smile at them. "Oh, just stay for a while~ It wont hurt you any."

He kept doing this until he had just the right amount of people. It was around then that he sent a letter to Francis, telling him exactly what he was about to do and why. Francis's reply arrived one day too late. Arthur had already gone through with his plan. He'd brought each person down one by one, using his freshly sharpened knife to get what he needed from each one.

But something went horribly wrong. Arthur wasn't sure exactly what went wrong and he still isn't sure now, but whatever did go wrong changed Arthur's life.

Sometime during the ritual he had been doing, Arthur blacked out. When he woke up he was in the center of the room surrounded by blood. He couldn't remember much of what happened. Looking down at himself, he'd hoped to find clues as to what had happened, instead what he found was that he was completely see through.

"Bloody hell!" He exclaimed. He ran to the closest mirror to get a better look at himself. "Wha-?" His thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of what happened.

He was dragged out of his thoughts when he heard the doorbell ring. Slowly, he made his way towards the front door, finding a letter lying on the ground when he got there. He picked it up, reading the address from which it came. It was Francis. Reading the letter triggered some things to return to his memory about what happened.

"Damn... This is all your fault, froggy! You were supposed to stop me..." Distraught, confused, and scared, Arthur wondered about the house, yelling and cursing Francis for not stopping him.

He spent a good few years doing this, not really sure what else to do. That is until he stumbled upon a locked door that had an odd glow about it. Standing next to the door gave him a weird feeling, a feeling of which he could not explain. He tried everything he could think of to get the door open, but nothing worked.

Giving up, he sat with his back against the door. Then a thought occurred to him, making him sit up straight only to slouch back against the door groaning. "Ugh... Dammit Karma! Why didn't I think of that before?" He growled to himself in frustration.

IVIVIVIVI-End of flashy back thingy 3-IVIVIVIVI

"Wait, let me get this straight." Alfred said, confusion evident all over his face. "You did some magic stuff and woke up like this... So does that mean that you're not really dead then?"

"Not quite."

"Then what are you?" Alfred asked.

"Alive but dead."

This only confused Alfred even more. "But... How?"

Arthur sighed. "Do you remember that glowing door I mentioned before?"

Alfred nodded. "Mhm."

"Well, you see, from what I gathered that door leads to a frozen realm. A realm of which nothing lives and nothing dies, it just is." Arthur said, noting the still confused look on Alfred's face. "I am being punished by Karma for what I did to people and for what I was going to try to do. My body has been locked in the realm, leaving my soul here to continue living without technically living."

"Doesn't that mean you get to live forever, then? How is that a punishment, dude? I'd kill to get to live forever!" Alfred exclaimed.

"No, Alfred. You do _not _want to live forever. Living forever means watching all your friends and family day right before you. It means knowing that no matter what, everyone that you come to meet will die while you get to continue living. It means never getting to move on from this life."

* * *

><p><strong>I can't write creepyscary things... ;A; I had a lot of difficulty getting through this chapter.**

**Heh, Karma really is a bitch. ;) **

**French-  
><strong>

**Désolé - Sorry  
>Je m'apelle - My name is<br>Bonjour! Mon ami, c'est quelqu'un là-bas? - Hello! My friend, is anyone there?  
>Non - No<br>Merde - Shit **

**If any of the French is wrong, I apologize. I don't really know how to speak French. ^^; (Thank you MikkiHasACookieForYou for the corrections~)**

**(1) - Alright, I kinda feel like I need to explain this. From what I know, 'dude' didn't become a popular slang term till about the 1980s and 1990s. And back in the 1800s it meant something like 'a dandy-ish sort of doofus.' Yeah, there's really no set date this is taking place at, but it is at least somewhere in the late 1980s. And when Arthur 'died' it was around the late 1800s early 1900s. So… He's old, haha!**

**So, what do you all think? Hm? I love hearing what you guys have to say and getting your opinion on things. Hence why I leave those questions. It's just fun to see what others think about certain things, ya know? (And don't be afraid to ask me what my own opinion is on any other the questions I happen to ask. Lol) **

**1) Which do you believe is true? Evolution or Creation?**

**2) Have any of you seen/heard of 2p!Arthur by Beek on tumblr? **

**3) Francis! He makes an appearance! What do ya think? He's... Totally OOC in this...**

**I did not read through this, so I'm sure there are a few mistakes or whatever. I apologize for that. **


	5. Chapter 5

**It's been a really long time…. I'm sorry guys. I really am… School, work, writer's block, me being lazy, and being distracted by tumblr, and yeah… I'm gomen. But anyway, here's the next chapter. **

* * *

><p>Alfred laid in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He thought about what Arthur had told him only hours ago. Arthur really wasn't a ghost. He wasn't really dead. No. His body was alive, frozen somewhere in the mansion by some sort of magic. Alfred found it really hard to believe what Arthur had told him. He didn't believe in magic. But Arthur didn't have any reason to lie to him, right? Of course he didn't… Or did he..?<p>

What if what Arthur had said was true? What if they were to find his body and release it from its frozen prison? What happens then? But what if Arthur's just lying to him? What would Arthur gain from all this? Alfred thought hard on the last question. What _would _Arthur gain? Alfred didn't have anything of value. Well, there was the house. Though it was still technically Arthur's house too since he couldn't really go anywhere. If not that, then what? What did Alfred have that Arthur didn't? The answer hit him suddenly with the force of a speeding train.

_A living, breathing body._

It all made sense. Arthur could lie to Alfred, make Alfred trust him and gain control of his body. Then he'd be free. Isn't that what some ghosts do? Possess people, take over people's bodies so that they can be, in a sense, alive again. Or was Alfred thinking of something else?.. No, that had to be what Arthur was planning. It was the only solution that made sense, after all. What else could it be?

But could Alfred really believe that? He didn't want to. He really, really wanted to trust everything that Arthur had said was true. But how could he be sure? There wasn't too many people to ask, no one to be specific, about how honest of a person Arthur was. But now that Alfred thought about it, what reason did Arthur have to tell him the truth? There really wasn't one... Though, what reason was there to lie?

All these questions and many more kept floating through Alfred's thoughts as he stared up at the ceiling from his bed. He didn't know what to believe or even what to do. For once in his life, Alfred was unsure, worried and confused.

IVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVI

"You're picking at your food, dear." Arthur said, folding his arms across the top of the chair Alfred was currently sitting at and resting his chin atop the American's head. "What's wrong? Something bothering you?"

Alfred flinched at the sudden contact. He couldn't actually _feel _Arthur, but his skin became cold and tingly in the areas where Arthur was close to or touching Alfred. "No, nothing's wrong. Just thinking about something, that's all." He said, hoping that'd be enough to curve Arthur's curiosity. But it wasn't.

"Oh? And I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this something is, hm?"

"Nope."

Arthur sighed, his icy breath making Alfred shiver a bit. "Well, fine." He straightened up, then continued. "But if there's anything you want to talk about or whatever, just let me know." And with that he was gone, leaving Alfred alone in the dinning room.

The rest of the day passed by without event. Both Arthur and Alfred going about their own daily things, not that Arthur really had many things that he could do, but still. Alfred, quickly becoming paranoid throughout the course of the day, was almost positive that Arthur had been following him the entire time without him noticing. He could have sworn at times he could feel someone walking up behind him, reaching out to grab him. But every time he looked back no one was there. It was like the beginning of this whole ordeal all over again.

"Arthur?" Alfred called out, trying his best to not sound like a scared little child, hoping that he'd get no answer just to prove to himself that he was being ridiculous. As it so happened, luck was on his side. He received no answer from his ghostly friend, if he could call him that. With an audible sigh, he continued with the project he was currently working on for the day.

IVIVIVIVIVIVIVI

Arthur sighed to himself as he wandered down one of the many hallways that made up the mansion, too lost in thought to pay attention to where he was going. Alfred had been acting a bit off as of late, and he couldn't figure out why. Had he done or said something wrong? Whatever, why did he care anyways? It's not like what Alfred thought about him mattered. It's not like it mattered whether or not Alfred believed him. Nope, it didn't matter at all, not one bit. Besides, wasn't Arthur's original goal to scare Alfred away from his house? Yes, yes it was. So what's the problem now? Why did the idea of Alfred not believing him and leaving hurt so much? He didn't care. He really did not care... Or, at least, he didn't want to. If Arthur were to be truthful to himself he'd find that quite the opposite was true. Alfred's thoughts about him did matter. Whether Alfred believed him or not mattered a lot as well. And most importantly, Arthur did not want Alfred to leave. Ever. But Arthur wasn't being truthful to himself, which created a rather big dilemma for the Brit and for Alfred as well.

"_Arthur?_" His name echoed in an unfamiliar voice through the hallway. Though Arthur was curious as to why his name was being called, he choose to ignore it. "_Arthur_." This time the voice came from much closer.


	6. Notice

Hello dear readers! I know it has been a long time since I have done anything with this story. But I come with some news that you may or may not like. I guess I don't really know how you'll feel about it. But here it is anyways.

I'm going to be revising this story and tweaking a few things here and there. Some changes may be small and unnoticeable while others may be larger and more noticeable. I can't really say what all I'm going to do at the moment, but you get the point.

I really don't want to drop the story, because I really like the idea still. So I'm going to try to save it.

I'll leave this notice up until I get caught up to where the story is at now. When this notice is gone, that means that everything after is current and new and that the overall revision is done.

And yeah, that's about it.


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